


Faith II: Hope

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-19
Updated: 2002-04-19
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: The X-Files and all familiar characters are owned by 1013, Fox Television and were created by Chris Carter, any others were conceived in my warped imagination. No infringement intended.





	Faith II: Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Faith II: Hope

## Faith II: Hope

#### by Chad Moore

Title: Faith II: Hope  
Author: Chad Moore  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website:   
Date Archived: 04/19/02  
Category: Drama, Romance     
Pairing: Mulder/Skinner         
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: This serial story takes place a few months after "Fight the Future." In this alternate version of Season Six, Mulder and Scully are back on the X-Files, with references to previous episodes peppered throughout.  
Permission to Archive: Slashing Mulder, Down In The Basement  
Series or Sequel/Prequel: Faith  
Notes: Acknowledgement: Special thanks and love to my beta, Goddess Michele.  
Warnings:   
Disclaimer:   
Summary: The X-Files and all familiar characters are owned by 1013, Fox Television and were created by Chris Carter; any others were conceived in my warped imagination. No infringement intended.

* * *

* * *

Teaser: Hope, Part One of Five. Mulder continues to enjoy his extended leave of absence with Skinner, while Scully begins an investigation of her own. 

* * *

**PART ONE: A QUIET NIGHT IN AND OUT**

This is the life, Fox Mulder thought as he settled back into Walter Skinner's strong embrace with a deep and abiding sense of contentment. 

Mulder couldn't help but think of the mornings he'd sat across from Skinner's desk engaged in staring contests over a case, or the times he'd burst into the middle of a red-faced meeting with an "I'm here now" nod. Even dark periods when he wondered who's corner the Assistant Director was really in -- enemy or ally -- seemed like hazy memories now. 

Flecks of amber sparkled in his eyes as he stared into a light blaze Walter had set to burn in the brick fireplace at the condo. 

"So how does it feel?" Walter's low, sexy voice drifted into his ear. 

Mulder sighed dreamily. "Can I answer that with a PG or R rating?" 

At one time an extended leave of absence would have seemed like a nightmare for Fox Mulder, but now a week free of paranoia, stepping on toes, reprimands, and bureau politics was nothing short of heaven. 

His change in attitude came about because he'd spent said week blissfully making love to Walter Skinner in marathon sessions that left his mind floating in clouds of ecstasy and his body riding waves of a peacefulness that he'd never known before. 

His lips were still tingling, and had tingled for what seemed like hours, branded by Walter's mouth like a timeless, sweet dream that had everything to do with his lover and absolutely nothing to do with proving the existence of alien life. 

Despite the love and security he currently felt, two worries plagued the Agent's mind: his mother's relapse into a coma, and his own recent "attacks." He used the word "attacks" because there was no other way to describe the visions which had assaulted his mind the day he bumped into Faith Matthews. 

Forgotten, broken images of the past had wormed their way out of a locked door within his mind with near-crippling effect. When Mulder tried to piece them together, his head still spun at the fuzzy memories. They made no sense: a white door, his mother crying and arguing with a man, seeing himself opening the door, then -- damn! -- it always ended with his entire body being flooded with light. 

He had no clue what trauma he'd blocked out. Nothing like this had ever once come to light during his regression hypnosis sessions. He wondered if the memories would ever break free. Once they'd started, the visions and their effects had become worse, and Mulder had been sure -- so damned sure -- that Faith had caused them. 

Mulder had felt pulled, almost drawn to Faith, but not in a freaky stalker way. He'd just been so certain that a eighteen-year-old, smart-ass kid from New Jersey was triggering his hitherto unknown past with some psychic ability. And as was his nature, he found himself searching for answers to questions not yet asked. 

Not for the first time, though, Fox Mulder had been proved wrong. And an entire week had passed without a single "attack" -- although his dreams had turned from their normal Mulder-kinkiness to out-and-out weird. 

Throughout it all, Walter had been a beacon in the night, a veritable tower of strength for him. Mulder sighed and cuddled back against Skinner's barrel-like chest. He was just thinking too hard. With that, he decided to ditch his pesky introspection for the rest of the night. 

"It feels like I ought to get whacked on the head more often if this is the sort of treatment you get," he replied with a crooked, sarcastic grin. 

"Ah." Skinner flashed him a smile. "Some people will do anything to get out of work." 

"It's not a dodge I recommend," Mulder said. 

Then Skinner leaned forward, and kissed him deeply and tenderly. A powerful thrill formed at the base of Mulder's spine and fanned outward and upward, making his breath catch in his throat. Walter's warm lips were gentle, and softly probing, and Mulder closed his eyes, wanting him so much; so incredibly much. 

Skinner slid his arms around the younger's man's neck and heard Mulder's soft groan against the hollow of his ear. He lingered at his jawline, nuzzling Mulder's neck, inhaling and devouring the irresistible taste of his skin. 

"Fox," he murmured softly, spanning his large hands across the other man's back. He brought one hand up to Mulder's face, trailed a fingertip down his nose and across his mouth. 

Mulder caught it and held it between his teeth, looking at Walter with a languid intensity that seemed to sum up the duality of his nature. 

Skinner's own eyes darkened in response, and he kissed Mulder again, more passionately this time. He opened his mouth and snaked his tongue between Mulder's lips, parting them, and then exploring the recesses of his wine-sweetened mouth as they embraced in a long, sensual kiss, building the urgent desire that they felt for one another. 

Mulder had to have all of him, there and then. 

The agent's hands roamed beneath Skinner's blue-striped shirt, pulling it up and over the older man's glistening head. Mulder whistled softly at the sight of Walter's chest -- which never ceased to amaze him -- and then homed in on his nipples, sucking on one, then the other. 

Skinner groaned softly as his lover lightly nibbled on a nipple and started to unbuckle his belt. He stopped Mulder with a deep moan and pulled him up for another long kiss. Face flushed, Walter started unfastening the buttons of Mulder's shirt and quickly had it pushed off his slim shoulders. Not losing contact with Mulder's kiss-swollen lips for a moment, he pulled down the agent's slate-gray sweat pants, even as Mulder was opening the buttons of his own frayed Levi's. 

Panting with anticipation, the A.D. pushed the other man's briefs down, which Mulder kicked off from his ankles while he did the same with Walter's. 

Then, like two powerful magnets, they found themselves pressed tightly together in one another's arms and fell back together onto the carpet, with Mulder's body covering the older man's. 

Their tongues fought a frantic duel until Mulder broke the kiss with a gasp, only to find his lips trailing down Skinner's body, almost without thought. His mind was awhirl with lust and emotion nearly too strong to be named, and he could only grow more excited as his mouth toured his lover's body, first stopping on his neck, and then trailing down to his chest, his nipples, and finally down his rock-hard abdomen, his navel and then, at last, finding the prize, fully erect, waiting to be tasted. 

Inhaling Walter's sweet, musky scent, Mulder lovingly took his lover's balls into his overheated mouth and sucked, first one, and then both at the same time. The former Marine writhed below his sensual lover like a lion in heat, and encouraged Mulder on with wild, guttural moans of ecstasy. 

When Mulder eased his way up to his lover's stiff dick, standing thick and proud, the long shaft twitched of it's own accord, and Skinner made a sound of need deep in his throat. Mulder felt his own cock shift and throb in response. 

Licking along the shaft first, Mulder stole a glance up to see Skinner looking down at him, with nothing but love and desire in his eyes, and as Mulder flicked the head of his lover's penis with his tongue, the A.D. let out a shudder and a sigh. Mulder continued to play and tease until Skinner begged for him to take it deeper. 

Sliding his mouth down over the entire length, Mulder buried his nose into the soft patch of hair at the base, and, once his throat had adjusted to the size of Skinner's cock, he started bobbing up and down. Each movement was accompanied by a flick of his tongue over the underside of Skinner's dick on the way up, and A swirling around the head each and every time Mulder reached the crown. 

Skinner was in pure heaven, losing himself in sensation, but dimly aware that something was missing. With what was nearly his lost coherent thought, Skinner turned his body around and found his lover's straining erection. 

Soon enough, Mulder felt his own cock slipping between the other man's lips and he marvelled briefly at the way Walter swallowed it with ease and expertise. The lovers sucked and made love to each other in unison, moaning loudly, forming a perfect rhythm. 

Mulder felt Skinner's body tense up and his balls draw closer to the shaft. He redoubled his efforts, and was rewarded with deeper and louder moans, as Walter's body convulsed and bucked beneath him. The feel of Skinner's body thrashing under him, and the fact that this incredible man was coming into him, because of him, for him; all this, combined with the slick hot feel of Skinner's hot mouth on him, combined to overwhelm his senses. 

He could no longer hold himself back, and his orgasm roared through him and out of him with more intensity than he could ever remember feeling. It was almost too much to bear, and his body was wracked by shudders as he groaned out his lover's name around the man's pulsing cock. 

Afterward, the two men laid before the glowing fireplace, kissing passionately for hours and the last thing Mulder remembered before drifting to sleep was Walter spooning with his back to him, kissing his neck and shoulders, holding him tight, keeping him warm and safe. 

* * *

For the past week, the basement office of the J. Edgar Hoover building had been quiet. Too quiet, Dana Scully observed. This was mainly due to the fact that her partner was not scrambling about the room in bursts of spontaneous energy. 

Ever since Mulder had -- surprisingly -- decided to accept his extended leave of absence, Scully had tried to keep in close contact with her partner. But it seemed that every time she called he was out of breath, and unable to speak. She figured he was using his downtime to take endless runs, something she knew from past experience that he did to keep himself not only in physical shape, but to allow his mind some time to free associate as well. She understood his need for it, but it was surprising to her that he would be doing it constantly, as seemed to be the case. 

She attributed much of Mulder's recovery to Skinner, who seemed more than content to join Mulder in his leave, although his secretary, Kim, assured Scully that the Assistant Director did pop into his office for brief moments before returning home just as quickly as he arrived, Scully suspected that he was doing little more than checking his messages. A bit of investigating proved that to be the case. 

Now that Mulder was doing fine -- in fact a lot better -- Scully had spent most of her time thinking about their previous case. Though the "Winterborne murders" file was closed, one important aspect remained opened for her: the mystery surrounding a certain young man named Faith Matthews. 

She wouldn't allow herself to get carried away with speculation, however Scully could not ignore the ominous implications. She couldn't help but wonder, not only as a scientist and investigator, but as Mulder's friend, what the connection between Faith, Mulder's recent anxiety symptoms, and the mutated strain of alien virus residing in the latter's body could possibly be. 

She tried to imagine what Mulder's reaction would be if she came right out and told him that Faith was carrying alien D.N.A. around in his bloodstream, that he was somehow capable of rapid cellular tissue regeneration, and that, inexplicably, he had the same exact blood type as her partner. 

Fox William Mulder would go on a rampage, and that was only one of many reasons Dana had decided to keep this information to herself. Another was the fact that Faith's life was in danger, and he didn't even know it. 

She felt a faint tingling at the base of her neck. Her first instincts would have declared this all a coincidence, but she had seen and been through too much to discount the mounting evidence. Something Mulder had once said to her came back to her: "If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?" 

Or dangerous, she thought as she added another piece of information to the thoughts in her mind. The wrecked F.B.I science lab -- another puzzling factor. Security had double-checked all the surveillance tapes and none of them showed an intruder entering or leaving the building that night. 

It worried her tremendously that someone out there had committed a serious break and enter, and only taken Faith's blood sample. Dana had been hesitant to make a move to warn him, though. So far, he appeared to be safe, and she feared that if she confided in Mulder and they both approached Faith, then whomever had stolen the blood would take more drastic measures. 

No, she was resolved to have every piece of evidence in hand before taking another step. If Faith had been exposed to anything in his past to drastically affect his blood, she had to know. 

The waiting had been the worst part, and one evening she'd attempted to burn off her anxiety by giving the office a good cleaning and arranging all of the files. Scully had realized she was very much at loose ends when she gave up categorizing Mulder's "Adult Video News" magazines by order of date. 

The silence and gloom of the basement were both chased away the second Scully breezed back through the door today, however. She tossed her jacket onto a hook, switched on the lights and ushered Agent Marcus Courtney inside the room. 

Mulder had mentioned the short, muscular auburn-haired agent to Scully on an earlier case as being a human "hound-dog" -- actually, Dana recalled her partner giving a cringe-inducing rendition of the Elvis tune at the time -- when it came to background research. Naturally she turned to him with the proviso that the check into Faith's past be kept strictly "off the record." 

Stepping into the domain of the F.B.I.'s "most unwanted" investigative team, Marcus could not tear his eyes from the close-fitting magenta suit that the beautiful red-haired agent wore. The loose matching blouse in a slightly lighter shade complimented it perfectly, he thought with absolutely no objectivity whatsoever. He hung back as Scully strode forward. She seemed intent, in control, but he detected a lingering hint of expectation. 

"First time I've ever been down here," he confessed as Scully, like the hostess at a dinner party, ushered him toward the desk and showed him the chair she usually parked herself in. 

Scully cast a quizzical glance, then raised her eyebrows, wishing that he would get straight to the real question -- whether his investigation into Faith Matthews's background had uncovered anything useful or suspicious. 

"What's with Mulder?" he asked. 

"Nothing serious." Scully smiled thinly. "What were you able to find out?" Her crisp voice carried an edge of urgency. 

"Sorry this took so long," he replied, while handing her a rather thick file. "But I had to cut through more than the usual amount of red tape. What exactly did this suspect do?" 

Scully shrugged innocently, offering him a peek down the front of her blouse that went well with her non-answer, as she sat down in Mulder's swivel chair behind the desk, anxious to open the file. She settled back and stared at the folder's contents. 

Agent Courtney nodded at the folder. "If you're looking for criminal activities, all I've got for you is bubkes." 

"Bubkes," Scully muttered, scanning documents eagerly. 

Her expression phased from confusion to irritation to concern. 

"Just a moment," she said. "Where are the medical records?" 

"Apparently, he's a regular Superman." Marcus snorted as if she'd just made a joke. "He has never been sick a day in his life." He shrugged, then clasped his hands, elbows on the chair's arms, trying to look professional, interested and cute, all at the same time. 

Not exactly what I was expecting, Scully thought, dismayed. 

"Surely there must be something," she said, feeling disheartened. 

"It's a pity Spooky's not here." He gestured to indicate Mulder's absence. 

Scully felt a defensive twinge at the jibe toward her partner, but this faded instantly as Agent Courtney went on. 

"Because I did come across something rather 'unexplained'." 

"What exactly did you find?" she asked, intrigued. 

"I searched every record available and this Faith Matthews doesn't have a birth certificate any where." 

"How is that possible?" 

"Your guess is as good as mine. It's not much, but all I could find was this." He reached forward to sift through the file and produced an envelope. From within he showed Scully a small, crumpled piece of paper. "It was signed by a nurse who witnessed his birth a few days before his adoption." 

Scully's blue eyes widened. "Adoption?" 

Dana could literally feel her mind spinning with the facts presented before her. Things were going much too fast, even for her. After a moment, she studied the paper with great seriousness. 

It didn't reveal a mother or a father, which wasn't that odd in adoption cases. But this was not a clear, cut-and-dried adoption. Scully thoughtfully chewed her lip. Before and after the birth Faith was obviously known to and cared for by a nurse, so logically, the R.N. knew his real mother. 

"He wasn't dumped, but taken to a church just outside of Newark," Courtney explained. "I guess that's where they found him a home." 

She wrinkled her nose while staring at the nurse's name and burning it into her mind. "And where is Katherine Lynne McAllister now?" Scully asked. 

"Get this." Marcus threw her an ironic smile. "She became a nun and her last known address was at the same church. Weird, huh?" 

Propping up her head with the palm of her hand, Scully rifled through the papers. She would have never guessed that Faith was a foundling. And at this time, there was no way she could find answers from his adoptive parents as she knew that they had both died in an airplane accident a year ago. 

Dana heaved a deep sigh of resignation. She had two options open to her at this point: she could either fly to New Jersey and talk to the mystery nurse-turned-nun, or she could question Faith Matthews again. 

* * *

With determined steps, her shoes slipped softly over the lush carpeting. It was dark outside, and the darkness penetrated the walls of the expensive building. 

Once upstairs, she could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock. She advanced toward an ashen light seeping from a half-open room at the end of the hall. She pushed open the door and walked past trophies and photographs in gilded frames. 

She felt her way through the darkened room and focused her eyes on the soft illumination of a green desk lamp. She knew that she wouldn't have to travel far; he would be nearby. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw him across the room, seated in a high-backed chair. 

"Has there been a report?" he asked from the shadows. 

"Yes." She took a short, calm breath. "He's still in Crystal City." 

"You seem very sure." 

"I am." 

"There have been no traces up to now. After all these years, there should have been something," he replied, adamantly. 

She shifted her weight. From the tone of his voice she tried to work out whether he thought she were lying, or he just simply disbelieved the possibility. 

"You forget. Someone didn't want him to be found, did they?" she reminded him, curtly. "They were very clever, but that's academic now. There have been..." She paused, not so much for dramatic effect, but more to press her point home. "...developments." 

At this, and as she expected, she saw his shadowed head twitch up at her. 

"What do you mean?" he demanded. 

"I'll wait until I have more information from our agent." 

"Don't be so vague," he said with a wave of his hand. "What are you talking about?" 

When she saw his watery eyes staring at her, she knew she would not forget the past, but she must look to the future. She had made a promise to him. She had things to do. 

"You may be right," she conceded. "This could all be a trick on his part, and yet..." 

"Make sure he continues to keep a close watch," he croaked. "But tell him not to draw too much unwanted attention." 

She smiled with an ironic grin. "You know him better than I." 

With the flick of a solid gold lighter, the flare touched the end of a Morley and lit up CGB Spender's face. He nodded. "The soul of discretion." 

* * *

* * *

Teaser: Hope, Part Two of Five. Faith gets an offer that's hard to refuse, and a visit from Agent Scully. 

* * *

**PART TWO: NO MILK TODAY, THANK YOU**

This is my favorite part of the day, Faith Matthews thought as he looked over his shoulder around the room. A handful of lingering co-workers were milling about, wrapping up their own projects. 

As he simultaneously filed away a CD and stretched his back, Faith's eyes skimmed back over the soothing decorations he'd placed around his work station. Sometimes his crystals, flickering votive candles, and family photographs were all he needed to get into the zone. 

Faith was a free spirit and definitely walked his own path. 

Images swirled into infinity on his flat-screen computer monitor and Maggie Shelton bounded enthusiastically into his cubicle. 

"Two minutes 'til we leave the evil place that keeps our pay checks." Faith grinned cheekily at her. 

"So are we going to the club tonight or what?" Maggie wondered, adopting a pretty good imitation of her friend's New Jersey accent. 

Ever since he'd moved in with Maggie, they'd been like two peas in a pod, and Michele's -- the hottest nightspot in Crystal City -- had become their regular hang-out. 

Renovation work to repair his fire-damaged loft was going slow -- too slow -- for Faith's liking, but clubbing almost every night with Mags was definitely helping to put all of his bad memories -- Winterborne, Mirragan, his recent split with 'Luke the Duke' --where they belonged: in the past. 

Teasingly, with eyes crinkling up in the corners as if in deep thought, he remarked, "Either that or I'm gonna go over to the loft and see if there are any half-naked guys still workin'." 

"Faith, when have you _not_ gone looking for half-naked guys?" Maggie giggled with one hand to the side of her lips, blushing prettily as she remembered that she had just seen Faith not more than an hour ago sneaking into the supply room with a U.P.S. hottie. 

She loved Faith to death, not only because he was her best friend, but also because the guy was a major man magnet. Which meant fun all around for the self-proclaimed "biggest faghag" in Crystal City. She had her own private drinking game counting how many guys could get flustered in one night by Faith's charm and good looks. 

Maggie stifled her laughter when Mr. Radcliffe's glowering, fifty-going-on-a-million face appeared in Faith's doorway. 

"Faith, I'd like to speak with you for a moment, please." 

"Uh-sure." Faith nodded at his boss, who looked, as usual, slick and spit-polished from his graying temples to his tailored suit. 

Running his fingers through his thick, light brown hair, Faith exchanged a bewildered look with Maggie. As a graphic artist for WSR, he was used to dealing with "the Big Cheese", but something about Radcliffe's tone set off a warning in him that threatened to crack Faith's cool exterior. 

"I'll wait for ya," Maggie told him before giving him a "good luck" wink. 

Straightening his sky-blue jacket and brushing a non-existent crease from his pants, Faith made his way to Radcliffe's office. He coughed to both announce his presence and clear his throat, and flashed the older man his most charming grin. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Radcliffe?" 

"Yes," his boss said, taking a seat behind his desk. 

Uh-oh, Faith thought. This does _not_ look good. Here comes the big bad news. Must deflect... 

Radcliffe fixed his youngest employee with a scrunched-up, serious expression. "I'm really going to miss you, Faith." 

Faith's heart thumped. "I know I was late last week," he quickly explained. "I won't be any more, cos that's all over, I promise, and besides you've already told me I'm the best damn graphic designer you've ever had--" 

He broke off as the usually stern Radcliffe's face brightened into a smile. "Faith, I'm going to miss you because Steeltrap Industries liked your design so much that they want you to work for them at their main office." 

Faith's hazel eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

"Mr. Matthews, you've been promoted," Radcliffe said, standing and shaking Faith's hand, which was limp from astonishment. Faith just stared a moment, almost unaware of the older man's actions. 

"Sorry, I'm just knocked off my feet," he replied, coming to his senses and double pumping the man's hand in a crushing grip. "Thank you. Thank you very much." Faith could feel himself gushing breathlessly with happiness and wearing a smile that could rival any Atlantic City showgirls'. 

"I don't think I need to tell you what a big opportunity this is," Radcliffe replied. "You beat out some healthy competition. Steeltrap liked the vibrant energy of your layout, and your obvious talent." 

"This is music to my ears," Faith cried. "I'm gonna work my ass--" He stuttered. "--ssets off." 

"Congratulations," the older man responded with a sly smile. "Feel free to tell your friends." 

With a dreamy grin, Faith turned and headed out of the office. 

Spotting him, Maggie hurried to his side. "So, what did the Head Honcho want?" 

"Hold on," he said, holding up a hand. "Wait 'til you hear what I've gotta tell ya." Faith gasped, looking back over his shoulder. "I was so worried when the Big Boss called me in." 

"What is it?" Maggie was practically jumping up and down with anticipation. "Come on, Faith, don't keep me in suspense!" 

He took a deep breath, then blurted, "Steeltrap are giving me a job -- I got a promotion!" 

"No!" Maggie cried, excitedly. 

"I know." He laughed nervously. "I'm havin' a hard time believin' it myself." 

"Get out!" She thumped his chest once, very lightly. "You are something else, Faith," she said with admiration. 

"Yeah, I know, yeah." He rigorously waved a hand, feeling just a little uncomfortable with the praise, deserved or not. "But I've gotta small margin of error to work with here," he added, thinking that one little screw-up at Steeltrap could leave him with no job at all. 

Maggie tilted her head with an understanding smile. "Knowing you, you won't need it." 

"I don't know." He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "Moving all the way to Boston, switching schools..." 

"Oh." Maggie couldn't resist emitting a sad little sigh at the thought. Then casting aside her own concerns, she swiftly suggested: "You wanna celebrate?" Then, cheekily: "On you of course. Now that you're making the big bucks." 

Faith gave her a crooked grin. "It's always on me, remember?" He was way too excited to go home, and definitely needed to bounce at the club. 

"We will party the night away!" Maggie pronounced, planting a kiss on Faith's cheek, then quickly rubbing her smeared lipstick off with her thumb. 

* * *

When the morning sun tugged warmly at the bed sheets, Skinner woke, wondering if the previous night had been a dream. 

But then, reaching over behind himself, he felt a warm body, and when he turned, he saw an angel sleeping, looking just scruffy enough to convince him of his reality. 

Mulder was snuggled by his side, looking simply irresistible with his chestnut-brown hair sticking out at all angles, and his bottom lip protruding wetly. 

Skinner gazed at him lovingly, feeling a connection with the man that no orgasm could ever surpass. Almost as though he knew he was being observed, Mulder stirred from his sleep moments later, and Walter was greeted with a smile that warmed him from the inside out, and he let out a long sigh, then: 

"Hi," he growled sweetly. 

"Hey, you." 

Mulder went from groggy to instantly alert as he felt Skinner's hand slide down along his spine and his fingers traced a path to his firm buttocks. 

"To what do I owe the ecstasy?" Mulder inquired, lifting his mouth to be kissed. 

Skinner obliged with a thoroughness that took Mulder's breath away. Then he tried to give the younger man his surliest frown, and failed completely. 

"What about breakfast?" he smiled devilishly at his lover as he continued to caress Mulder's ass. 

Mulder's eyes sparkled. "Breakfast can wait, Walter." 

The A.D. took Mulder in his strong arms and hugged him tighter, rolling himself on top of the younger man. He kissed Mulder's neck, nibbling and licking his skin voraciously, before moving his lips to Mulder's shoulder. 

At some unspoken signal from Mulder, Skinner lifted himself slightly so that the younger man could turn onto his stomach. Then Skinner lowered himself carefully on top of him, with his now rigid cock resting just over Mulder's plump behind. 

Mulder groaned and sighed with desire while his lover's lips trailed down his back, planting kisses on his shivering skin. Skinner's hands kneaded Mulder's incredible ass cheeks, and parted them slightly as he kissed them. His tongue slipped around the exposed rosebud and he worked in first one finger, and then a second one, gently but insistently massaging Mulder's anus, driving the agent completely wild. 

Blissed out, Mulder was only faintly aware of one hand leaving his ass and surmised by the familiar sound of foil ripping that Walter was shielding his large cock. Mulder ground his hips into the mattress, relished the friction on is own hard cock, and then arched his back with anticipation. 

Moments later, he felt a dollop of warm jelly being slowly poured onto his ass, dripping down the crease to meet up with Skinner's fingers, which were still buried deep inside him. They slid out for just a second and Mulder looked over his shoulder. Catching the glazed lust in Walter's eyes that he knew was mirrored in his own, and wanting to see more, Mulder turned his body around, so that he was lying on his back, looking up at his lover. 

Skinner took Mulder's legs gently and placed them over his broad shoulders, then lowered himself onto his lover, kissing him deeply and passionately. 

Mulder felt the tip of the other man's cock pressing just inside him, and soon, he was taking the full hard shaft, matching Skinner's sighs and moans with his own, writhing beneath the A.D., and loving the sensation of the man's body, and larger-than-life cock. 

Then, keeping his eyes locked with Mulder's, Skinner started to slowly pump in and out of the younger man. The look in his eyes was the most amazing thing in the world to the agent, and he couldn't look away. As the tempo increased, Mulder felt Skinner sending him right into orbit, and not in that nasty abduction way. This was something far more insidious and frightening -- an emotion nearly too great to be named. Coupled with the physical stimulation, it was nearly too much. 

Deliriously thrashing beneath Skinner, Mulder's moans and grunts grew louder, and his lover reciprocated, his thrusts becoming harder and harder. Then the A.D. froze, and started to shudder while a strangled grunt escaped his open mouth, eyes wide open and rolling to the back of his head. He gasped for air as he came forcefully, pumping over and over again. Once his body stopped convulsing, he collapsed on top of Mulder; their bodies glistened with sweat, creating slick warmth between them. 

With a groan, Skinner eased up to kiss Mulder deeply, his cock still firmly rooted inside his lover's ass. He gently withdrew before he was completely soft and took off the condom, discarding it in the trash bin next to the bed. He then laid down next to Mulder and held him tightly for a moment. 

Then, without a word, he kissed the agent while reaching for another condom from the night stand. He then proceeded to cover Mulder's throbbing cock with it. 

Heart thundering in his ears, Mulder gasped as Skinner placed each of his knees to either side of him and lowered himself onto his rock hard erection, taking inch after inch into himself with deliberate slowness. 

"Fox, that feel so good," Skinner hissed, lost in ecstasy. 

Soon, Mulder was sheathed deeply within the tight, warm fist of Skinner's ass. Walter's mouth fell open as he pumped up and down on top of him. Mulder could feel each groan reverberate through his body, and soon lost control of all his senses. The pleasure was almost more than he could endure and he hoarsely cried out Walter's name while coming into the condom. The resulting stimulation to his prostate had Skinner coming once again, this time all over Mulder's chest. 

Then, with a thunderous groan of completion, Skinner laid down on top of Mulder, found his mouth, and kissed him tenderly. Mulder's arms locked around the other man's waist, pulling him closer. He turned his head, and with his lips near Skinner's ear, he whispered mischievously, "Now, that's what I call breakfast." 

A wide, sated smile spread from one side of Skinner's flushed face to the other. Then, he covered his lover's mouth with his own again. 

* * *

The dentist's-drill buzz of the alarm clock pierced through Faith's dreaming mind and woke him at just after eight o'clock. One eye flickered open and glared at the thing, the humming mixing with the memory of all-night bass beats still echoing through his head. 

He briefly recalled falling into bed around five in the morning, and he couldn't believe it was time to get up already. He and Maggie had done some hard partying -- correction, celebrating -- last night. 

Just looking at the clock wouldn't make it shut off, however, so he forced himself to sit up, eyes slitted open, and clicked it off. 

"Morning!" Maggie called in a much-too-cheerful-for-this-time-of-the-morning voice. "You want something to eat? Pancakes? Bagels?" 

"Please." He absently ran a hand over his trim, slightly grumbling belly. "My stomach feels like my throat's been cut." 

Maggie chuckled. "Blackened Moo Juice?" she asked, brightly. 

Chocolate milk was his drink of choice, but on mornings like this, he needed something much harder. His grogginess was chased away by that little inneundo. 

"Coffee," Faith replied and quickly added, "no milk today, thank you!" 

"You got it." Laughing heartily, Maggie draped herself across the back of the sofa fully dressed for the office. Faith, on the other hand, had about thirty minutes to shower, dress and get across town to the wacky world of college. 

As he pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stifled a yawn, Faith's eyes adjusted to his friend's kitschy decor -- plush, velveteen furniture, bubbling CD stands, retro mustard-yellow cabinets, voluminous gold curtains, and funky, red-fringed lamps. 

Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep away, he was surprised to find both of his suitcases stacked on a recliner, and almost all of his clothing neatly folded next to the sofa bed. 

"What's all this?" Faith threw a crooked grin over his shoulder at Maggie. "Gettin' rid of me, huh?" 

"Never!" She smiled, then said softly, "Last night you said you needed a cosmic sign to tell you if you were making the right decision about the job offer," she reminded him, then shrugged. "So I gave it a little push." 

"Mags--" he began, knowing that she was right. The job offer itself was a sign of things coming together, that he was getting on with his life, and literally moving on. 

Maggie just shook her sandy blonde head with another giggle. "The things I do for you." 

Touched, Faith broke into a wide grin. "That's why I love ya!" 

At that moment, the front doorbell ding-donged through the apartment. 

"Will you get that, hon?" Maggie asked as she slid off the sofa and bounced back toward the kitchen. 

"Sure!" Smoothing his sleep-tousled hair, Faith padded across the room to answer the door. He excitedly started thinking about the weekend; flying up to Boston, checking things out, more determined than ever to-- 

Faith stopped short when he opened the door and saw Special Agent Dana Scully standing there, ID in hand. His heart started to thump harder. 

"Mr. Matthews, Faith, hello." Scully blushed slightly and focused her eyes away from his athletic way-too-naked-for-her-liking body and onto a psychedlic art print behind his head. 

Faith shifted his weight, looking far sexier in his jet-black briefs than Scully did in her usual fitted suit and trenchcoat. 

"Do you remember me?" she continued. "Dana Scully?" 

"Yeah." Flashing her one of his cockeyed grins, he jibed over his shoulder, "Mags, set another place for breakfast. Agatha Christie's here." 

"Huh?" Maggie's voice floated from the kitchen. 

"That won't be necessary," Scully said. 

"Forget it," Faith called back to his friend, then sighed at the agent, "What did I do this time?" 

As he turned, Dana followed him inside and closed the door behind her. Faith trotted over to the sofa bed and slipped a white ribbed, sleeveless T-shirt over his head. 

"Nothing," she replied, casting a brief glance at the room. It had only taken a little checking to find out where Faith was staying. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were getting along." 

"Peachy," he said while pulling on a pair of jeans. 

"Glad to hear it." She nodded absently, realizing how feeble her next statement sounded. "How about your cuts and scratches?" 

"Good as new," Faith crowed, touching his cheek where the cut he'd sustained had healed impressively. 

'Rapid cellular tissue regeneration,' Scully checked off in her mind. She'd caught a glimpse of his injuries and there was no other explanation for this amount of healing in this short space of time. 

She cleared her throat and asked, "No ill effects from the fire?" 

Faith looked thoughtful. Why's she so interested in me? he wondered, fixing Scully with a curious gaze. "Why are ya askin' me all these questions?" 

"It's a doctor thing." 

Searching for a quick change of topic, the red-haired agent noticed the young man's luggage and piled-up clothing. 

"Are you going back home?" she casually interjected. 

"Further than that," he replied, full of enthusiasm. "I'm headin' to Bean Town." 

Scully paled. "You're moving away?" Her eyes betrayed her distress at the notion. 

"Got nothin' tyin' me down here." He winked at her and gave her a wave. "See, I got a job offer upstate." Faith said with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "A kid from the poor side of the tracks workin' for a big company -- who knew?" 

Scully pasted on a shiny smile. "That's wonderful." In truth, panic swept through her. As she furiously thought of a way to keep Faith in town, the agent confessed, "Actually, the reason I needed to check up on you is because I wanted to talk to you about your blood." 

"My blood?" Faith felt his heart lurch, remembering the sample Scully had taken from him a week ago. "Woah, just hold up a minute! Are ya tryin' to tell me I'm dyin' or somethin'?" 

"No, it's nothing like that," Scully hurriedly assured him, keeping her expression neutral. 

He blew out his breath. "Well, good." His mouth opened in a little "o" that would have been comical under other circumstances as he added: "That was close!" 

"There were some--" she bit her lip, thinking of the right phrase, while not wanting to alarm him, "--impurities in your blood sample." 

Faith felt his heart jump again. "I'm not contagious, am I?" he exclaimed. 

"No, but there are some unanswered questions," she informed him gently, while privately hoping the virus the young man was carrying remained dormant. "Was there ever a time when you were hurt or very ill?" 

"Me? Nah!" he scoffed. "My pop always called me 'thoroughbred.' Y'know, healthy as a horse." 

Scully pressed on. "Have you ever been hospitalized? Perhaps when you were small?" she suggested. 

"Red, I'm tellin' ya," he choked back a laugh, then waggled his fingers at Scully. "I was the kid kickin' sand in the other kids' faces!" 

Scully couldn't help it, she had to smile. "Faith, I have no doubt in my mind that you ruled the playground." Getting serious again, she bluntly asked, "Can you tell me about your birth?" 

Not the best segue in the world, Dana, she scolded herself, but she had to find answers fast. 

"What's your angle?" Faith asked, feeling his face go hot. 

Scully drew a deep breath. She could tell that there would be no easy way around this, so she decided to come straight to the point. 

"Faith, what I need to find out is if you or your mother were ever exposed to anything that could have caused the anomalies I've found in your blood." She paused, then gently continued, "What do you know about the day you were born?" 

Faith looked taken aback, thrown a curve ball for the second time in less than two days, this one far less pleasant than the job offer. 

Scully noted, as she had before when talking to him, that when Faith opened up a little, he revealed a gentle, vulnerable side to him that he seemed to keep well buried beneath the layers of Jersey attitude. She willed him to talk, hoping that a clue would lead her to the information she desperately needed-- 

"I don't know too much about it," Faith replied with a frown. 

"Anything would be helpful," Scully, startled out of her reverie, asked him to explain. 

Faith thought a moment, then shrugged. "My folks never talked about it. Sometimes I'd ask my ma, but could never get an answer." 

"Then you don't know--" She broke off and caught her lip between her teeth, suddenly realizing that Faith had absolutely no knowledge of his adoption. 

"See, she wanted a baby real bad, my ma, she did tell me that." Unable to believe he was spilling his guts to a Fed, particularly this one, but feeling almost compelled to do so, Faith went on, "I think it made 'em sad I was the only one." 

Scully's eyes were sympathetic and reasurring. "I'm sure they loved you a lot." 

"Oh, yeah." He grinned proudly. "They were the best." With that, he looked at his watch. "I've gotta get to class," he told her, while turning and folding away the sofa bed. 

Waiting for him to finish, Scully moved closer. "Faith, can you do me a favor?" she asked, softly but urgently. 

"You bet." 

"Don't leave town until you hear from me, okay?" Scully reached out and touched his arm. "If any one approaches you about your blood, please call me first." 

He smirked. "You sound like that Captain Paranoia Mulder." 

Appreciating the irony, a smile tugged at the corners of Scully's mouth. Then she slipped her card into his hand. 

When he cocked a puzzled eyebrow, she said, "Don't worry. Everything will be fine, I promise." 

"Okay, I guess..." 

After she left, Faith gazed at the small white card with a troubled expression on his face as he wondered what the heck was going on. 

* * *

Dana stood on the walkway of the Three Oaks apartment complex deep in thought. Faith's ignorance about his adoption complicated matters tremendously. The young man's non-existent medical records were a joke; he had clearly never been treated for any out-of-the-ordinary symptoms or that would most assuredly have turned up in Agent Courtney's background check. 

Born in Maryland, Virginia, how did Faith end up adopted in Newark, New Jersey? The alien virus in his blood stream? One brush with him and Mulder collapses? How? Why? More questions on top of questions, and her mind reeled. 

There was an explanation, there had to be. Impossible, to her, maybe, but that didn't mean there wasn't an answer. If Mulder had taught her anything in their time working together, it was that sometimes all it took was a little imagination to find it. 

One thing she was sure of, there was a connection between the virus, Mulder and Faith. Something that hung between them, something that had drawn the two of them together, and something which had caused her partner's near breakdown. 

Something. She really hated that word. 

Scully felt the urge to call Mulder, and tamped it down forcefully. There was no question in her mind that he could and would help. Instead, she knew, she would have to do her best to keep this secret. 

Not out of fear for herself, but she knew Mulder --knew the way he'd go haring off after any lead like this. And she wasn't about to jeopardize her partner's health, physical or mental, until she had all the facts. So, the less people who knew, the better. The responsibility was on her shoulders. But she would handle it. She would. 

Scully picked up her phone and dialed a number. 

* * *

* * *

Teaser: Hope, Part Three of Five. Scully makes a stunning discovery, but will Mulder accept the revelation? 

* * *

**PART THREE: WHO ARE YOU?**

Mulder settled into the padded deck chair and propped his socked feet up on the patio table. 

He was looking forward to a relaxing afternoon of doing nothing more strenuous than reading a book he had bought for a buck at a used bookstore. "Monsters from Outer Space" was a poor substitute for muscled, manly arms, but Walter would be home soon enough, Mulder reminded himself. 

He rather liked pretending to be a man of leisure, but even as he was fantasizing, he knew he couldn't deny the need to return to his active role as Special Agent Mulder. 

This brought on a sudden thought: What would life at the F.B.I. be like now that his supervisor was also his lover? Mulder honestly couldn't give a damn what anyone thought; he was happy and that was all that mattered to him. But being an expert profiler and constantly delving into the psychology of the human condition gave him even more insight than he wanted about what could happen if news of their relationship got out; it could seriously threaten their jobs, Skinner's especially. 

Mulder had a flash of his first meeting with Faith Matthews, and how feisty the younger man had been about his own sexuality. Mulder was beginning to understand his pride, and-- 

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath with a wince. Whenever his mind drifted to the events of the previous week, the same, painful ache behind his eyes returned. He quickly diverted his thoughts back to Walter. 

Deciding to treat themselves to an impromptu barbecue, Skinner had left to shop at the neighborhood grocery store while Mulder had showered, dressed, and caught a cab to visit his mother. He'd been to see her every day, and every day he came away feeling deflated as his mother's condition remained the same; no worse, but no better, either. 

Mulder breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. Fresh air and the tranquility of the skyline combined to soothe his worries. 

He could feel the headache finally subsiding, and was practically on the verge of drifting off when Skinner pulled open the sliding glass door and walked out onto the wind swept patio. "I'm back," he announced, "and I bought enough to feed an army...," Skinner's words trailed off. 

With his sunglasses on, and his head drooping over the rather thick book laid open in his lap, Mulder could have been reading or taking a nap. Skinner couldn't be sure. However, while Mulder's nocturnal patterns had improved, he remained restless while he dreamed. Skinner was hesitant to wake him if he were actually sleeping. 

When Mulder glanced up, he smiled, but Walter detected a faint, painful wince crinkling the edge of his eyes behind the glasses. 

"Another headache?" 

"It's nothing." Mulder shook it off, and smiled wider. "Just been reading in the sun too long." 

Walter raised a bemused eyebrow at the lurid book cover. 

"My brain needed a break," Mulder explained as he turned the book upside down on the arm of the chair. He looked longingly at Skinner, then, when a frown began to deepen the lines on the older man's forehead, he offered a small grin. 

"I'm fine, really," he assured his lover. "What's with the A.D. glower?" 

Kneeling down beside Mulder's chair, Skinner wiped away the furrow with a shrug. "Oh, it's probably nothing." 

"Walter?" prompted Mulder. 

Skinner sighed. "It's just that when I walked in I had sort of a funny phone call." 

At this, Mulder chuckled. "Hey, if it was Dial-A-Cum, don't look at me!" 

The older man snorted. "It better not be!" Then he shook his head, and the mysterious frown reappeared between his eyebrows. "No, that was Kim. She said that Agent Scully called in and took a personal day." 

Mulder's expression switched from curious to worried in the blink of an eye. "Is she all right?" he asked. "That's not like Scully to take off at all." He pondered a moment, then, almost as an afterthought "At least not without telling me." 

"I know." Walter nodded. "You'll just have to ask her about it when she gets back." 

Mulder reacted with a start. "Gets back?" he repeated, incredulously. "Gets back from where?" 

"New Jersey." 

* * *

Some time later, and several states away, Scully was parking her rental car in front of an old gothic cathedral. A quick call to Agent Courtney had secured the address, and when he asked her for a dinner date, Scully had accepted out of sheer gratitude. 

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she looked uneasily up at the intricately carved gargoyles guarding the church door. She chastised herself for almost being frightened, feeling silly, but the feeling persisted, almost as if she were about to interfere in something best left alone. 

Steeling herself, and taking a deep breath, she entered the cool, quiet sanctuary. 

Scully gazed up at the gorgeous gold altar and a giant mosaic of angels soaring into heaven. The painting's vivid splashes of color and depiction of peace instantly appealed to her. 

She walked up the aisle and turned into the west nave. There she saw a nun lighting a white, votive candle and crossing herself. Beneath her dark veil, she looked just old enough to have been here for a long while, though her face was still attractive. 

"Excuse me," Scully said tentatively, walking up behind her. "Are you Sister Katherine?" 

"Yes. And who might you be?" the nun replied, looking Scully up and down with a gentle smile. 

Suddenly, Scully felt a little uncomfortable under the other woman's gaze. 

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully," she said. She held up her ID. "This isn't an official visit," she assured her. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about a young man named Faith Matthews." 

She cocked her head at the nun, expecting her face to light up with recognition. Instead, Sister Katherine just stared at her blankly. 

"It's very important," Scully added. "I would be very grateful if you can help me." 

After a moment of silence, the woman said, "I'm sorry, I wish that I could." 

Not to be dissuaded, Scully reached into her coat pocket and showed the nun a worn slip of paper. 

"He was born on August the thirtieth, nineteen-eighty," she said. "The signature indicates that you were present at his birth. Is this your handwriting, Sister Katherine?" 

She didn't answer. 

The nun took the wrinkled paper, skimmed her eyes over it, then looked back up at Scully with a small shake of her head. "No, I'm sorry. This lady was a nurse, as you can see, I'm not." 

Scully exhaled slowly. Why was the woman so reluctant to tell her the truth? She did not have time to play guessing games. 

"Sister Katherine, Faith is carrying a virus which could kill him. All I'm looking for is a little information, please." 

"I'm sorry," the nun told her, more firmly. "But I can't help you." She started to turn away and move down the aisle. 

Dana exhaled loudly. "I should've called Mulder," the red-haired agent muttered under her breath, now very frustrated and angry with herself. 

Sister Katherine stiffened. 

Scully blinked. 

"What is it, Sister?" She hurried to the woman's side, and the nun averted her gaze. A glance at her eyes showed Scully that something she'd said had struck a nerve. "Mulder," she repeated, feeling her pulse quicken as hope rose in her heart. "Do you know that name?" 

It didn't take any special instinct to realize the woman was afraid to talk. 

Scully carefully said, "It's okay, Sister Katherine. I'd just like to talk to you about Faith." 

The nun's eyes began to pool. "Is he very sick?" she asked in a small voice. 

"Not yet." Scully drew a breath, not daring to break the moment. "That's what I'm hoping to prevent." 

After a pause, they sat down together on the front pew. Sister Katherine looked into her face, and Scully realized she was deciding whether or not to trust her. Dana knew the only way she could win it was to confide in her. 

"Sister, a few months ago, I was infected with a virus almost identical to the one which I've found residing in Faith's blood. If it hadn't been for my partner, Fox Mulder, I wouldn't be here today. I want to give Faith the same chance at life." 

Scully leaned toward her, lightly resting her hand on the nun's arm. "Please tell me about Mulder and about Faith." She gazed imploringly at her. 

The nun clasped her hands in her lap and said resignedly, "All right." 

* * *

The next morning found Mulder settled into the condo's sofa cushions with his long legs draped over Skinner's. He absently chewed his lip, searching for the best way to tell the older man he'd like to return to work. 

Coffee cup in hand, Skinner drained it and sighed. "Look at the time." 

"Yeah," Mulder smiled goofily. "Going into work today?" 

"No. I've got five glorious days off." 

"Super." Mulder gently tapped Skinner's mug with his own, and decided to bring up the subject of work later...much later. He glanced down at his empty breakfast plate. 

"I'm still starving," he suddenly announced. 

Skinner raised his eyebrows, leaned in close, and nibbled on Mulder's lip. The agent laughed. "Ah, don't go there!" 

"You want the barbecue leftovers?" Walter asked, as he lightly ran his fingers up and down Mulder's right thigh. 

The agent's mind began to whirl from his touch. What was I just thinking about? he wondered to himself. 

"I'm hungry," Mulder said, "but not for left overs." 

"You are so bad." 

"I try." Mulder pulled the A.D. closer, and planted a soft, warm kiss on the other man's lips. Then he sat back, grinning, unaware of how adorable he looked to Skinner. "Mmm... Did I ever tell you there's nothing better than this?" 

A sly grin stole across Skinner's rugged features just as Mulder's cell phone started to ring. 

* * *

Scully was finding the desire to call Mulder and tell him what she had learned nearly overpowering. As she hurried out of the airport terminal, phone in one hand, carry-on in the the other, and her heart thumping rapidly, Scully gave in, punched in the speed dial number for her partner, and impatiently waited for Mulder to pick up. 

Skinner answered instead. 

"Hello?" he rasped, sounding impatient, but Scully knew from an untold number of meetings that she was hearing his natural tone. 

"Sir, is Mulder up?" 

There was a pause. "Hang on." 

A muffled exchange on the other end, then Mulder came on. 

"Sorry to call so early," Scully said at his hello. 

"No problem," Mulder replied, distracted and slightly out of breath. "At least not for me. But I'm not a cranky old bear in the morning..." 

Scully heard another indistinct exchange, and she nearly collided with a couple in her haste to find the terminal exit. 

"Scully?" 

"Mulder, I--" 

"Scully," gasped his reply. "This...really isn't...a good time." 

She replied quickly. "Mulder, I know this is a bad time, but I need to see you." She listened for a second, then continued urgently. "Of course it's important. It's more than important. It's beyond important." 

* * *

Troubled ever since Scully's call, concern and curiosity waged their own private little war in Mulder's mind. 

Walter glanced over his shoulder as Mulder checked the time again. His lover said something under his breath. Something ironic, Skinner was sure, because he was Mulder, after all. 

He was about to suggest that he and Mulder find a game to watch while they waited when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mulder fairly lept across the room to answer it. He opened the door to find Scully standing in the hallway. 

"Hey, Scully! Let me guess -- another Jersey Devil sighting?" he riffed. 

Mulder felt quick relief wash over him seeing that his partner was fine, but this was quickly chased away by the grim look on Scully's face. 

"What's going on?" 

"Let's have a seat," she suggested. 

"Uh-oh," Mulder said, recognizing that particular tone of voice. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" 

Scully nodded hello to Skinner as she rested her feet. "There's something about our last case that I didn't tell you. Mulder...," she hesitated. "And I don't quite know how to tell you this now." 

"Scully, you're starting to scare me, which is a frightening prospect in itself." Mulder smiled nervously. "What is it?" 

"It's about Faith Matthews." 

"What about him?" 

Scully explained. "Last week I took a sample of his blood, and I found a mutated strain of virus --Mulder, he's carrying the same virus I was infected with." 

As Scully talked, Mulder's eyes widened with alarm. "And you waited to tell me this because...?" he countered. 

"He's...," Scully swallowed hard. "Mulder, I think that boy is your brother." 

Mulder flashed Scully an incredulous look. "What?!" he yelled. 

"Mulder," she said gently, "you deserve to know this." 

Mulder stared at her blankly, trying to catch his breath. Skinner looked just as blindsided. He slid to the edge of the couch and gazed at him. "Can that be true?" 

"T-That's not possible," Mulder stuttered softly. He couldn't even begin to wrap his brain around what Scully was saying. He looked at Skinner and wanly added, "Did I just fall down the rabbit hole?" 

As Mulder watched his lover's bewildered shrug in answer to his question, he felt as though he were going to lose it at any moment. 

"I went to New Jersey to try and find out more...and I found it. I found proof," Scully said slowly. 

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested." 

"You don't want to know who he is?" She glared at Mulder, who silently, but firmly shook his head no. "Why? Please hear me out." 

"You can explain until the sky falls down, but there's no way I'll ever believe that kid is my brother!" Mulder cried, outraged. 

"I wouldn't lie about this." Scully came over and shifted next to him on the sofa, trying to get him to understand, to listen to her. She was perplexed by his reaction. "I know it's a shock." 

"Are you trying to tell me that all this time my mother knew she'd had another child, and she failed to mention it?" Mulder threw his hands up in exasperation. "Of course, maybe she just forgot! That would explain it -- happens every day." 

Scully sighed. "Mulder, come on, when you know the circumstances surrounding this you'll understand." 

"No. This can't be true." Mulder looked wildly at Scully. "I don't care if you think he's my brother, my clone or just a damn good con artist." 

"Mulder, Faith has no idea he's adopted," she insisted. 

"My mother wouldn't have abandoned her child!" he protested, his mind awhirl with images of his childhood, his lost sister... 

"This isn't some story, some case in the X-Files." Gazing at her partner's stricken features, she told him sadly: "Eighteen years ago your mother had a baby, a baby she never knew, Mulder. A baby she never held. Your brother. Faith." 

Scully gently touched his arm. "I found the nurse who was with her. She's a nun now. Her name is Sister Katherine and she told me, she told me what happened the night Faith was born." 

Something inside of Mulder went rigid. Forget losing it, he thought in a rage, I'm way beyond that. 

"If you're trying to convince me, it's not working!" Mulder snapped, and pulled back from her. 

"Mulder...," Scully followed when he stormed away. 

Walter said nothing, only watched his two agents with concern. He fixed his lover with a tender gaze, as, expectedly, Mulder was freaking. 

Whirling around suddenly, Mulder faced Scully directly. "Why?" he demanded. "Why would my mother willingly give up a child?" 

"Because, she thought he was going to die!" she bluntly answered him. "Mulder, he was born prematurely. He was very ill and weak, and she--she believed his life was already in danger--." 

"If that's true, then how did he end up being adopted in New Jersey?" Despite his vehement denials, he couldn't help his natural curiousity. 

"Because this woman, this Sister Katherine, made a promise to your mother, and made sure that when she took her holy orders that Faith started a new life, too. And she took the baby with her, and she kept it a secret and nursed him back to health in New Jersey." 

Mulder's mouth twitched with a grimace of hurt, feeling as if his life was suddenly turning completely upside down in some huge, insane game. He suddenly found himself remembering the Well-Manicured Man confirming, just before the car explosion, that his father had allowed Samantha to be taken; had his mother hidden Faith to keep him safe? 

Oh god, Mulder groaned miserably. He felt a little sick. He couldn't stomach the idea that his mother had kept this secret from him all these years, that Faith... 

Despite his anger and disbelief, Mulder felt his heart wrench for his mother. This can't be true, he repeated over and over to himself. He wanted to scream in frustration. 

Scully cut through his haze with a more urgent matter. "What are we going to do about Faith?" she asked. "He's about to leave town and be out of your life forever." 

"That's fine by me." 

"Wait, you don't want to know who he is?" 

"No." He clenched his jaw in an eerie imitation of Skinner at his surliest. 

"Mulder, what about his blood?" She tilted her head and narrowed her blue eyes at him. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" 

"No, I'm not!" Mulder lost the rest of his patience. "Scully, just drop it." 

"Why are you so anxious to dismiss this? We're so close to knowing who Faith really is, how he was infected, why your attacks started the second you met him." She took a breath as she went on, "I know that Sister Katherine was a friend of your Aunt Teresa's, how she arranged his adoption--." 

"Fine, okay. If you're so curious about all of these coincidences, about Faith, then you go on and do it, go play Sherlock Holmes, but leave me out of it!" Mulder shouted angrily, unwanted tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 

"I can't do that, Mulder," she told him. "You're in the middle of this whether you like it or not. Come with me to New Jersey and talk to Sister Katherine." 

His shoulders slumped, and he said, in a small defeated voice, "I don't want to do this." 

"Don't you want to find out the truth?" 

"I thought I knew the truth," he said, wiping at his eyes. 

Scully reached forward, took his hand in her own, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Then help me find it." 

* * *

* * *

Teaser: Hope, Part Four of Five. Mulder learns the truth about Faith. 

* * *

**PART FOUR: LISTENING TO TRUTH**

Mulder had been like one big frayed nerve ever since Scully had dropped her little bombshell on him. Walter had wanted to reach out to him, to help in some way, but his lover was so angry and so frustrated by the prospect that not only had Teena Mulder given up a child, potentially his brother, but that she had done so and never told him, even after all they had been through as a family. Add to that the current state of her health, and his feelings on that, and Walter found it was much like trying to soothe a scalded cat. Mulder was adamant that he absolutely did not want to talk about it. 

Still, Skinner had to try. Scully or not, he wasn't about to let his lover go off and face this alone. 

"Right," he said, turning from the kiosk and back toward Mulder and Scully. "Three first class tickets to Newark. We can board whenever you're ready." 

Mulder blinked, as if he'd just been startled out of a daze, and gave Skinner a long meaningful look. 

"Ready? I'm confused. I'm a...," Mulder's voice failed him. This whole thing -- Sam's disappearance, the X-Files, his father's murder, his mother's coma, finding love with Skinner, and now Scully's notion that Faith was his brother -- was making him question everything about his life. 

He recognized the behavior as one of his less successful coping mechanisms, but seemed unable to stop himself. And naturally, in light of his failure to make sense of his life, he lashed out, covering fear and confusion with a mask of anger. 

He glared at Scully. "Listen, there's no possible way that Faith Matthews can be related to me," he insisted, with a tone that suggested he'd like to turn this debate into a fight. 

No matter how many times he went over the facts that Scully had presented in his head, he found that he could think of a host of arguments and counter-suggestions. 

"This trip to New Jersey will clear that up once and for all," Scully told him, and gave a reassuring squeeze to his arm. "And, frankly, I would love to be proved wrong this time." 

Unfortunately, Mulder honestly didn't think the trip would clear up anything, but he also couldn't see any other answer. 

"Well, let's get it over with." He hefted the small travel bag Skinner had packed for him and marched toward the gate. 

Scully hurried after him. "Mulder, I wouldn't want to send your life, or Faith's, or even my life, for that matter, into a tailspin." 

"I know, but--" 

"But what?" 

Mulder suddenly halted before a window, looking uncertainly at the runway outside. 

Skinner watched as his lover press his forehead against the glass, not frowning, but lip pushed out a little, eyes wide and turned down on the sides -- like a puppy afraid of an impending thunderstorm. 

"Once we get on that plane," Mulder said quietly, "things will never be the same again -- for any of us." 

* * *

"This is the church I told you about," Scully said, nodding at the building. 

Standing before the cathedral, now backlit by the setting sun, a deep dread filled Mulder, a horrible feeling that he just couldn't shake. And he definitely would have liked to. 

His heart thumped painfully, and suddenly he felt as though he were stepping out of himself, and into the Cowardly Lion's shoes; having come all the way to Emerald City, and just as he was about to face the Wizard, desperate to back out. 

"I don't think I can do this." 

He started for the car, but Scully blocked him with her hand, touching him briefly on his chest. "What is it, Mulder?" 

She watched him look to Skinner for support, gave the older man a look, then looked back at Mulder. 

"Scully, I-I-," he faltered. 

"Mulder," she said in that persuasive voice he'd heard so many times before, "before we walk through those doors, I just want you to have a chance to examine some of the unfortunate things and impossible things that have happened to Faith, through no fault of his, and certainly no fault of yours." 

"What do you mean?" he asked, but in his heart, he knew, and her next words did not surprise him. 

Scully took a breath, then insisted: "He could die from the virus, Mulder. We have to do this." 

"What if I can't do it?" he asked flatly. 

"Mulder, if you can't face the facts in a situation like this you're not hurting anybody else, you're only hurting yourself." 

"Yeah, well, just so we're clear," Mulder said sullenly, "I'm only doing this to try to help him, okay?" 

Angry again, he turned back toward the church, determined to get answers. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he entered the sanctuary. 

Skinner stayed close by his side as they moved up the wide, red-carpeted aisle, and he gave the older man a grateful look, that Skinner acknowledged with a curt nod. A few paces ahead, Scully was scanning the expansive room and gestured with her head when she located a nun. 

Mulder went cold. If this woman confirmed that Faith was his brother -- no! He shook his head. He refused to think it could really be true. He feared the possibility. A little whisper in his mind urged him to believe, while another, far louder voice remained deeply mired in disbelief. 

"Sister Katherine," Scully called. "This is Fox Mulder." 

Slowly, Sister Katherine's eyes widened in wonder. "Oh, Dear Lord," she said. "You've come. She said that you would come looking for him one day." 

Mulder awkwardly glanced at her, unsure of how to respond to her words. 

"She?" he repeated, finding his voice. 

"Your mother," she told him. 

"My mother," Mulder whispered, feeling his knees go weak. 

Scully gave Skinner a quick, worried glance. Mulder was teetering on the edge and she signalled to her superior that they had to make Mulder able to gather himself to listen to the rest of what the nun had to say. 

Without a word, Skinner put his hand to the small of Mulder's back, briefly, just long enough for his lover to pull himself together. 

Sister Katherine nodded as she continued, "She came to me and said that her baby was in great danger. I was stunned, I didn't know what to think. She said she wanted to keep the baby, but that she had no other choice but to give him up, to protect him." 

"Danger? What kind of danger?" 

"She didn't say," the nun replied, "but I knew from the terrible pain in her eyes that it must have been great." 

Scully cleared her throat. "Sister, could you please explain to Mulder what happened the night the baby was born," she gently requested. 

Sister Katherine moved closer to Mulder as she spoke, "Your mother was living with your Aunt Teresa at the time..." 

Mulder grimaced, the painful memory of his parents' separation coming back to him so clear that it might well have just been yesterday. 

"...and she went into early labor. When your aunt called me, I was prepared, but the birth was still difficult." 

Overcome with emotion, the nun clutched at her heart. 

"The moment I laid eyes on that baby boy, struggling for breath, I knew that he was wonderful and special, and I never stopped praying for him to live." She exhaled, relieved at having finally told her story to Mulder. "Afterward, your mother asked me to find him a good home, a safe home, and to keep her secret until you came looking." 

"But how could she know?" Mulder gasped, squinting at her, his mind awhirl with a million half-remembered conversations with his mother, his aunt, trying to find connections even where there were none. 

"Come with me," Sister Katherine said quickly. "There's something I have to show you." 

She hurried out of the nave and pushed open a polished door. Mulder took a deep breath and followed her into a small anteroom that smelled of incense, and found it to be filled with wine goblets, priests' vestments, and several bags of communion wafers. An antique wall clock with a large pendulum tick-tocked near the door where Skinner and Scully waited. 

Sister Katherine unlocked a trunk and pulled out a plain wooden box. She put it on the table and opened it, her eyes glowing. 

"She asked me to save this for you, for this day," the woman said. 

When the nun gently placed a photograph in Mulder's hand, tears welled up in his eyes unbidden. 

He must have seen this picture a million times; he and Samantha together one long ago summer at Martha's Vineyard. Mulder traced the image of his sister with his fingertip. 

"Your mother had only one request: that his name would be Faith," Sister Katherine said, patting Mulder's hand, trying to reassure this man that she had simultaneously just met, and just possibly wounded deeply. 

Skinner braced himself as he saw a shudder work its way down Mulder's back, wondering if he should reach out to his lover, unsure of how appropriate that would be, given the location, and the circumstances. 

"Mulder...," Scully began, giving her partner a nervous look. 

He stood frozen to the spot, gazing at the photo, and flashed back to the day it was taken; how his mother had gotten him and Sam to pose by the garden... 

Brushing a tear from her own cheek, Scully moved up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his frame in a supportive hug, and resting her head against his back, she made a gentle suggestion. 

"Mulder, I don't expect anything from you at this moment, but you know that you have to go to Faith and tell him." 

Mulder couldn't answer; he was still too shaken. Vaguely, he felt a tear trail down his cheek and watched it drip onto the picture. 

The pain Mulder was feeling ripped through Skinner's own heart like a knife. He found himself removing his glasses and wiping at his own eyes brusquely, wanting to be strong for Mulder, but hurting for him just the same. 

Jolted out of his reverie by Scully's words, Mulder slipped out of her embrace and turned to look at her. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I can't face him." 

Scully exhaled slowly. "It's a shock, I know," she replied, then appealed to him: "But you can't deny it any longer -- you're brothers." 

Mulder just curled his lip, turned on his heel, and ran back into the sanctuary. All he wanted to do was get out of here, and he focused on the exit, not hearing the voices calling back, or the footfalls behind him. 

"Mulder!" It was Skinner, hurrying after him. "Fox!" 

Mulder continued running down the aisle and didn't stop, running straight through the front door and out of the church. 

Skinner threw open the main doors, hurriedly scanning the street for his lover. He immediately saw that he didn't have to travel that far. Shoulders hunched over, Mulder was sitting on the stone steps looking down at the picture still clutched in his trembling hands. 

"Mulder," Skinner breathed. He placed a warm, comforting hand on his lover's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Walter, but this is all just way too much for me to handle right now," Mulder said. He shook his head and brushed away more tears. "Way too much." 

"Nobody can blame you for being angry," Skinner said gently. 

"I'm not angry," Mulder said, and meant it. After the last few hours of complete insanity, he didn't have the energy for anger. He did, however, have a surplus of bafflement. "I'm confused -- I mean, this is insane! I'm her son, Walter. You think she could've mentioned, 'Oh, by the way, you have a brother'." 

He felt his throat close up, and he choked back a sob with great effort. He gazed up at Skinner, feeling grateful that the older man was here while his sorrow washed over him. The tears began to flow freely, and the sobs he'd fought so hard to swallow came up and out of him. Instantly, he felt Walter's arms around him as the A.D. sat down beside him for a comforting embrace. Mulder's eyes fluttered shut. Skinner held him closer and Mulder felt himself at last begin to calm a little. 

"I still can't believe mom kept this from me," he sighed quietly, feeling more than a little frustration. 

"It didn't sound like she had much choice," Skinner said, "I don't understand the circumstances, and it may be something you never know." He paused, sounding choked himself. "This is more than anybody should ever have to deal with. But _we_ are going to deal with it together, the best way we know how." 

"A brother...after all this time." Mulder stared at his sister's image and drew a deep, sad breath. "I miss Sam so much! It's hard to imagine opening up to someone else," he confessed. 

"You did it for me," Skinner reminded him with a reassuring smile. "Maybe you don't have to start with love, maybe you just start by talking." 

Mulder could barely comprehend what was happening. So he was even more thrown when he decided to agree. 

"I have to see Faith," he said weakly. 

"Fox, just take your time," Skinner told him. "Why don't you just wait a little while and let this all sink in?" 

"Look, I'm not crazy about this, but I can't just do nothing, not now," Mulder heaved a deep sigh of resignation. "Mom wouldn't want me to." Then looked at the picture and added quietly, "Neither would Sam." 

This kid has no idea what he's in for, he thought grimly. And neither do I. 

* * *

* * *

Teaser: Hope, the final part of this five-part story. Armed with the truth, Mulder confronts Faith. 

* * *

**PART FIVE: HARSH REALITY**

"Everything's set!" Faith exclaimed as he hung up the phone, and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "In two days I'll be up there flyin' the friendly skies." 

He was feeling loads more confident about the job offer in Boston, so much so that he'd used part of his savings to book a weekend flight and take a look at Steeltrap Industries. It was still a major step, and he wanted to cover all of his bases before he made a committment. 

Maggie, a glass of wine in hand, minced over. "With some cutie steward, no doubt!" 

Faith threw back his head and laughed, "Oh, y'know me." 

"I certainly do." Maggie gave him a curious look. "What are you gonna do about that F.B.I. lady who stopped by the other day?" 

He deflated at the thought. Agent Scully promised to get back to him and never had. No news is good news, thought Faith, and that also meant no worries although he intended to have his blood checked out by a doctor to be certain he was A-Okay ASAP. 

"Well?" Maggie prodded. 

He thought for a moment, then cheekily replied, "If Red comes by again, tell her I ran off with Tom Cruise or somethin'." 

She giggled. "Before you do, just don't forget about the party Lily's throwing for ya," Maggie reminded him. 

Faith threw her an affronted look. "Mags, when have I ever forgotten a party?" 

Maggie smiled. "I think she even hired some male strippers," she teased. 

Faith's jaw dropped briefly, then he grinned wickedly. "That's nice," he murmured politely, then added, "and by 'that's nice', I mean, let's go now!" 

As he was getting to his feet, the phone started to ring. He grabbed it after one shrill sound, and answered, "This better be good." 

There was a long silent pause. 

"Helllloooo?!" 

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Faith tossed the portable back on the sofa. "They wouldn't answer." He shook his head. "Don't'cha hate that?" 

Maggie nodded. "That's got to be the fifth one this week." 

"What? Really?" Faith lunged and retrieved the phone. "Probably some loser guy with nothing better to do," he said, "I'll fix him." He started to punch in *69 when he saw his friend dismiss it with a neat economic shrug of her shoulders. 

"Must be some crank with a cell phone," she told him; then in a high-pitched computer voice said, "The number's always untraceable." 

"Figures." Faith sighed and was about to give up on the phone again when it went off. He made a startled noise, but kept his grip on the phone. 

"Got'cha this time, pal!" he answered, and was preparing a less than polite response, but Dana Scully's voice on the other end made him pause mid-sentence. Faith waggled his eyebrows at Maggie. "Well, whadda'ya know, Joe," he mumbled with a hint of irony. 

* * *

Mulder could barely remember the trip back to D.C. He'd spent the entire time thinking about Faith. He firmly believed now, more than ever, that his mind-bending attacks were tied to Faith -- his smart-ass long-lost brother, who had saved his life twice, not to mention somehow been infected with the alien virus, and on top of that was secretly adopted. And the kid didn't even know it. 

Unrelieved tensions spanned across the agent's shoulders and held his spine ramrod straight. Faith would be arriving at the condo at any moment. Without the reasurring presence of Walter or Scully, the room would've felt extremely empty -- too empty. He had initiated their current conversation, in fact, going over all of the details as if it were a case, just to help keep his mind busy. 

"What worries me is the identity of the person or persons who broke into the science lab and stole Faith's blood sample without being seen," Scully was saying. 

Mulder arched a sardonic eyebrow. "One guess who?" 

Scully didn't have to guess; she could read 'Consortium' all over her partner's concerned face. 

"Hey, maybe you should just try to focus on the boy, and we'll worry about the rest later," Skinner proposed. 

Mulder threw his lover a nervous but grateful, lopsided grin. 

Skinner was right, of course. Any moment now his brother -- his brother! -- would walk through that front door and Mulder was about to pull the rug right out from under his feet. 

What Mulder desperately wished he knew, what he couldn't figure out, was how to break the news to Faith. 

He had already run several scenarios through his head, none of which he liked. How do you tactfully tell someone that they're adopted? Especially when you're little more than a stranger to them? 

The doorbell chimed, and he didn't have time to ponder any more. 

"I'll get that," Scully offered. 

Mulder shot his lover another quick, nervous glance. Skinner returned the look with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Everything's going to be okay," the older man told him. 

"You haven't met Faith," the agent reminded him pointedly. "He's a force to be reckoned with." Mulder slipped the envelope Scully had given him on the airplane into his pocket. He took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and moved to follow her. He startled when, firmly, Skinner drew him back. 

"You can handle this." Walter's voice was soothing as he touched Mulder's brow, and cupped his cheek. With a steady, intense gaze, he added, "You can handle anything." 

At the moment, Mulder found more comfort from his lover's presence than from his words. He brushed Skinner's mouth with his lips, then leaned into his broad chest and sighed, "Oh, yeah." 

Miles to go before we sleep, he thought. He'd known pressure before, sure, but never anything like this. 

Hearing Scully greet Faith at the door, Mulder detatched himself from Skinner only with the greatest of efforts, and he couldn't but bite his lower lip as anxiety wormed itself into his stomach with acid tipped fangs. 

"Wow! Would ya get a load at this place," Faith exclaimed from the doorway. 

Skinner remained by Mulder's side, offering unconditional support. He glanced up as Scully walked back in. She was followed by a handsome young man whose spunky smile lit up the room. He trotted in wearing an eye-strobbing neon blue shirt with crimson leathers. 

Faith gave a little hello wave. "How's it goin', Five-O?" he snapped off in his quick accent. 

Mulder cringed at Faith's penchance for nicknames. "I hate it when he does that," he muttered under his breath to Skinner. Then he couldn't help but smile a bit. Leave it to Faith to lighten the mood, he thought. 

But Faith couldn't have cared less about easing the tension in this room, let alone this reunion at all. What is this? Why am I here? he asked himself, exasperated by his inability to figure it out. At this point, all he was interested in was putting the issue of his "infected blood" to rest once and for all, and getting on with his life. His natural curiosity had kicked in though; now he was wondering why Agent Scully couldn't have just given him the low-down over the phone and why she'd insisted on him coming to this wickedly expensive condo. 

As Scully moved up next to him, he was still casting his eyes over the room. She introduced him to the older man beside Mulder. "Faith Matthews, this is our supervisor, Assistant Director Walter Skinner." 

"Hiya, Walt!" As he walked by, Faith lightly patted Skinner on the chest, then eyed the older man up and down appreciatively. Giving Mulder a wink, he murmured, "If I'd know you were workin' for such a hottie, I'd have come sooner." 

Skinner nudged Mulder, and held back a grin at the astonishment on his lover's open-mouthed face. 

As he ambled along with the red-haired agent, Faith paused and jerked a thumb in the A.D.'s direction. "Is he seein' anybody?" he asked Scully. 

After the past few days Dana thought she'd seen and heard it all, but Faith's remark took the cake. Feeling her cheeks burning, and noting Mulder's reaction, which was anything but understanding, Scully said, "Come on, Faith," and hustled him past the staircase and into the living room. 

Skinner immediately saw the family resemblance. "He doesn't pull any punches, does he?" the former Marine observed as he rocked back on his heels. 

Mulder's face flushed as he felt a twinge of irritation, not just at Faith's behaviour, but at Walter's apparent complacency. He shot Walter a serious look -- mumbling the word "hottie" under his breath -- as they joined Scully and Faith, and was only slightly mollified by the intense and caring one he got in return. 

"All right, let's make this fast," Faith casually told them. "Cos I've got this whole going-away party thing tonight." 

"You might want to cancel those plans," advised Scully. 

"Why?" he smirked, a smart ass comment already poised on his lips, and then he looked between the three Feds. Suddenly he didn't feel so jovial, as he asked in a much more subdued tone of voice: "Okay, what is this, gang up on Faith? Where's my public defender? I know my rights!" 

"Just take it easy," Mulder said, prepared for the attitude. "Nobody's going to arrest you." 

"Well, good," the younger man replied after a moment. "Now what's this all about?" 

"Faith, as we discussed over the phone, this concerns your blood," Scully said softly. 

Taking a seat Faith smarted, "I think I'm hearin' an echo here 'cause you already said that. And you told me I had nothin' to worry about." He gave Scully a look that suggested that any interruptions of his plans would be considered completely her fault. 

Mulder cast a worried glance at Faith. Yeah, I think maybe I can live with the idea he's my brother, but I just hope he's not contagious, he thought grimly. He wouldn't wish the horrific way the alien virus spread through a human body on his worst enemy. 

"Yes, Faith, I did," sighed Scully, then she went all agentlike, crisp words and efficient phrasing. "Your blood was just the key, a starting point. Last week, during our investigation, I initiated a background check on you." 

"Hey!" Faith cried, glaring at her. He felt a mixture of anger and panic rising in his chest. 

Scully quickly continued, "I was perplexed by the coincidence that you and Agent Mulder share the same blood type, and so I began looking into your past." 

Faith's grin snapped off. "What's your angle, Red?" 

"You told me when we were talking, Faith. I asked you about when you were born and you said you didn't know too much about it because your parents never talked about it." 

Scully raised an eyebrow to Mulder, who cleared his throat, a signal that he wanted to take over. 

"There's a reason it was never mentioned," Mulder filled in, assessing Faith with a pointed and intrigued look as he broached this new topic. "Do you remember Saint Michael's church in Newark?" 

"Yeah, sure." Faith shook his head, mystified. "That's the church my folks used to go to. Why?" 

Heart hammering, Mulder made a silent wish for no complications, then looked at Faith and said, "Eighteen years ago, you were taken to that church by a nun, Sister Katherine, where you were adopted by the Matthews family." 

"What!?" Faith exclaimed, looking at him in utter disbelief. 

Mulder more than understood the feeling, but all he was feeling himself was a massive sense of relief as the words finally came out of him. 

"Faith, not only do we share the same blood type but...," Mulder glanced away from the younger man, the way he sometimes did when he simply couldn't handle saying something directly. "We also have the same mother. Your birth mother is Teena Mulder...My mother." 

Faith blanched. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected, but it sure as hell wasn't anything like this. 

"If that's true," Faith said, getting on his feet, "then that means you're my...," he couldn't finish; he swiveled his head at Mulder, who took a deep breath. 

"Brother," Mulder nodded warily. 

Faith's heart skipped a beat. Or three. "Is this a joke?" he blurted out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe, "cos I ain't laughin'!" 

"If this is a comedy, then it needs some work," Mulder agreed. 

"There's nothing funny about this, Faith, I promise you that," Scully gently assured him. 

At Faith's confused scowl, Mulder explained, "We just got back from New Jersey." Talking slowly, he added, "I talked to the nun who took care of you, and I have proof." 

Faith looked away, his breath coming in panting little gasps, feeling like he'd just run a marathon. This was like an old episode of "The Twilight Zone," or something, he thought. I'm trapped here with these schizos who are trying to convince me I'm somebody else -- somebody I'm obviously not. 

His forehead furrowed with concern, Skinner stepped over and told the flummoxed young man, "This is very disturbing, and I know that, but I think you owe it to yourself to hear Agent Mulder out." 

Faith pressed his fingers to the sides of his temples, trying desperately to understand, then brushed them away in frustration. 

"Wait, none of this makes any sense!" he cried, looking back. "Hey!" He gestured at Mulder. "You just told me you went to talk to some nun, right?" 

Mulder nodded. "Yes, she--" 

"Well, if she told you I was adopted, then she obviously forgot her vow of honesty, cos it's impossible!" His eyes wide, Faith appealed to the others. "She's lyin'!" 

"Unfortunately, it's not as simple as that," Mulder sharply contradicted him, again recognizing his own behaviour, but feeling less understanding about it in the light of his own acceptance of the truth. 

"C'mon, it's a lie! Why would this happen?" Faith demanded, angrily pulling himself together. "I wanna know why you're messin' with my head!" 

"I know it's a lot to take in," Mulder answered sympathetically, "and I--I would've told you, but I didn't know." 

"You didn't know? You didn't know that you had a brother?" Faith threw up his hands in exasperation. "What a freakin' genius!" 

The only thing Mulder could say was, "You've just got to trust me." 

"Faith, you've got to be reasonable," Scully cajoled. 

That's when Faith saw red. "Thanks for the advice! Fine! This is me reasonably walkin' out of this nuthouse! See ya!" 

"Oh, would you cut the sarcastic crap!" Mulder snapped, his temper rising. 

"Say it again!" Faith wheeled on Mulder, making a fist and preparing to use it. "Closer this time, and you'll be seeing more stars than a Hollywood plastic surgeon!" 

"Stop that right now," Skinner growled dangerously as he placed a hand on each man's shoulder and looked them both in the eye. That's all they needed on top of everything -- a pissing contest. "You are now acting like brothers," he informed them, "like two-year-old brothers." 

"Sorry, Chief," Faith meekly replied, as cowed by his attraction to Skinner as to the man's intimidating size. "I'll be good." 

"Now," Skinner sternly continued, "you're both going to stay in here and talk while Agent Scully and I wait outside." 

Scully didn't argue, just followed silently when the A.D. headed toward the patio. Sliding open the glass door for her, Skinner turned and threw one more warning at the two men. 

"I better not come back in here and find you two having a wrestling match in the middle of my living room." 

Mulder and Faith nodded sheepishly, avoiding each other's eyes. 

Knowing how much the truth was going to hurt, Scully turned in the doorway and offered the younger man an encouraging smile. 

"Please, Faith," she said, "this is a difficult situation. Don't make it any harder than it has to be...for both of you." 

After she and Skinner had left the room, an uncomfortable silence descended. Mulder awkwardly shifted his shoulders while Faith began a slow pace around the sofa. 

"I don't know what to tell ya, Double-O-Seven, but you're barking up the wrong tree," he said, then patted his own chest. "I know where I come from." 

Mulder's throat was dry. "Faith, you need to know the truth," he answered, licking his lips to moisten them. 

"The truth?" Faith's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. He held up his hands. "You've gotta think who you're talkin' about here. You're callin' my folks liars." 

"I didn't mean that." Mulder blinked, wiped at his face, and blinked again. "I never meant to imply not even for a second that the Matthews' were intentionally lying to you. I don't think that was the case at all." 

"Good, cos they'd never do that," Faith insisted. "They always made things right. They never lied about nothin'. Why would they lie to me about bein' my folks?" 

"I don't think they really lied about anything," Mulder said, hearing the desperate need in Faith's voice. "It's just that they never found a chance to tell you. 

"Y'don't know who you're talkin' about," Faith interrupted, an ache growing in his heart. "They were amazing." 

He had to make him understand about his parents, how all they ever offered him was an uncomplicated life full of love and support. The agent nodded to show that he did understand. 

"You need to know the whole story, Faith," Mulder said, turning to gaze imploringly at him. "And we have to talk about this today. Right now. It's important." 

"Alright," Faith said in resignation as he flopped back down into an arm chair. "Alright, let's talk about it." 

Mulder took a seat opposite him on the coffee table. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, and took a deep breath. 

"Obviously, you know about the abnormalities Scully found in your blood." He motioned at Faith, who sighed and rolled his eyes at him, but Mulder let this pass. "The trail led back to New Jersey, where we both talked to the nun who was with you when you were born." 

"And what did this eyewitness nun have to say?" Faith wanted to know, cocking his head to the side. 

Mulder pursed his lips and struggled to articulate what he wanted to say -- even if he still didn't understand himself. "Before you were born, my mother went to Sister Katherine and confided in her that her baby was in danger," he explained, putting his hands on his knees. 

"From who, the mafia?" 

"That's enough!" Mulder snapped his fingers and pointed at Faith. "Just let me finish. please? Okay, then...Sister Katherine promised to take you and keep you safe. And that's exactly what she did. She found you a home with the Matthews'." 

Faith interrupted, "No offence, but you're nuts!" 

"Come on, listen to me. Scully found out the whole story." Mulder sighed deeply. "The woman you've always known as your mother...she couldn't have children. She came to be close friends with Sister Katherine, and she and her husband adopted you." 

"No, no..." Faith shook his head, slowly at first, then faster. "That can't be." 

"Do you think I wanted to believe this?" Mulder passionately argued. "That my mother gave up her child? How horrible and painful is that?" He closed his eyes and grimaced at the thought. "But Scully kept finding new pieces of this puzzle, and eventually, and as crazy and improbable as this is, I had to consider the possibility that I had a brother out there. And that the brother was you." 

Faith stared at him, thunderstruck. Then, processing, he urgently said, "Don't you remember your mom bein' pregnant?" 

Mulder looked stricken. That time was a blur for him. "Faith, I was away at school. If there were any signs my mother was carrying a child, I didn't recognize them. If I'd had any idea..." 

Faith bolted back up. "I want you to explain somethin' to me," he was almost gasping the words out, as if Mulder's story had sucker punched him in the gut, and he was trying to catch his breath. "What kind of danger could make a mother give up her child?" 

"That's what we've got to find out," Mulder replied, sincerely wanting to know the answer for himself, but empathizing with Faith's confusion as well. "It could be the virus, or it could be--" 

"I look just like my pop," Faith declared, suddenly, his eyes glittering. "Everybody says so!" He kicked out at the sofa in frustration. 

Mulder saw the pain. And something else. Maybe betrayal. "Believe me," he swallowed, "I know how you feel." 

"Yeah, right!" Faith made a wordless sound of disbelief. "You don't know how I feel!" 

Mulder looked wounded. "Alright, we have to deal with the fact that we're brothers. You have to accept that -- I had to! I had to deal with that." 

This was just too much. Refusing to think it could be true, Faith started pacing the room furiously. He thought back on all the times he'd asked his folks about his birth, and how both of them had clammed up each and every time. Keeping secrets? Telling lies? It didn't jive with the people he knew and loved. 

Soon Faith found himself nervously standing before the agent. "I need proof," he said tremulously, speaking through lips that felt numb. "I need somethin' else. I need more." 

"Okay, I'll give you what I've got." Mulder dug the much creased envelope out of his back pocket and slipped it into Faith's hand. "Here, it--it isn't much. It's signed by the nurse -- the nun -- who examined you," he informed him gently. "It isn't a birth certificate, but it's close." 

In a haze, Faith gingerly opened it to find a small piece of paper. Reading the words, he felt fear and realization wrench his gut. The pain was almost physical. After several heartbeats of silence, he balled it up and crushed it in his hands. Then he started to slowly move away from Mulder and toward a corner of the room. He gazed up at the ceiling, his face contorted in a mask of hurt. He felt tears spring to his eyes and he fought them trying to keep the hurt from spilling out. He couldn't believe all these years... 

Faith shook his head and inhaled sharply. He gazed back at Mulder. None of this felt real. "I feel so stupid!" he cried. 

"Why?" Mulder asked, confused, but he didn't hesitate to move to Faith's side. "Why do you feel stupid?" 

"All my life I was proud of my family, y'know? My Irish heritage." Faith clenched both fists to prove his point. "I'm a Matthews. Nobody, but nobody messes with a Matthews." 

"I bet you've got a lot to be proud of from them," he offered, still reeling himself, but determined to be strong for his...he forced acceptance silently into his head. 'My brother...' 

"Except for who I was." Faith nodded ironically, his features hardening. "I understand about my ma, y'know I really do. But my pop...," He turned beseeching eyes toward Mulder. "Why would he keep a secret like that from me?" 

"Hey, it's easy," the agent conceded, "they were trying to protect you." 

"They lied." Faith nervously ran his hand through his hair and blurted out, "Nothin' in my life is real!" Then he turned away from Mulder once more, looking defeated. 

Mulder simply watched him silently. Hurting for him. And somehow, at the same time, missing Sam more than ever. It was almost as if, now that Faith was here, she was even more gone. He couldn't explain it any better than that, even to himself. 

He heard Faith whisper: "My life -- It's all a lie." 

Reaching out, Mulder tentatively touched his shoulder. Faith didn't flinch away, but gave Mulder's hand a swift pat in return, before sniffling and glancing away over his other shoulder. 

Mulder gave Faith a sad little grin, still riding on the emotions that were seeping through the room and coming off of both of them in waves. He tried hard to imagine what Faith was thinking, and he thought that he had a pretty good idea what he was feeling. 

"If you're like me," he said carefully, "and pardon the expression, but I suspect that you feel like you've just been kicked in the stomach by one fucking big donkey. But now that you know the truth...," Mulder's voice faded as his brother made it very clear to him what he was thinking. 

"I lived somebody else's life -- A life that wasn't mine. What you're telling me, truth or lies, it doesn't matter--" Faith just wanted it all to go away; barring that, he wanted to be alone before the crumblng dam holding back his feelings burst completely. He held up a hand as Mulder started to protest. "It doesn't," he repeated. "The truth -- this truth, it's too late. The truth was always right in my face and I couldn't see it. I wasn't given the chance to see it. And I don't even know why." 

Unable to deal with it anymore, Faith turned and dashed for the door. 

"Faith, wait!" Mulder called, caught off guard by the swift movement of the younger man. 

But Faith was gone. At that moment, Mulder realized that, for the second time in his life, he'd lost a sibling. 

* * *

Awash in a sea of hurt and confusion, Faith had blown off his party and felt compelled instead to go to his favorite dance club. He sat at the bar, resting his chin on his folded arms, and gazing into the empty Smirnoff's Ice bottle before him. 

Faith thought he'd been freaked out before, what with having a She-Bitch from Hell trying to kill him last week and all, but as the thumping techno music flowed through him he realized that this newest blow was a whole different definition of weird, sick and empty. 

He'd always had this feeling inside that he was somehow different, and now he knew why. Finding out that his entire life had been a sham; that his real mom had just dumped him like a sack of potatoes with some nun, claiming that she was afraid for his life; the redhead telling him that she thought he was carrying a virus; and to top it off, discovering a long lost brother that turned out to be none other than Special Agent Pain-In-The-Neck. 

Is this some kind of big fat cosmic joke? Faith thought mournfully. 

He didn't know where to go from here. 

He was working himself into a major funk when a low, sexy voice drifted into his ear. 

"Hey, you all right?" 

"Yeah, all things considered," Faith replied, swiping at his eyes. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" 

Faith sighed heavily, seriously not in the mood. "Look, buddy, if you're lookin' for an easy score--" 

"Actually," the man cut in, "I was looking for a friend. See, I've had a pretty fucked up day myself." 

Faith looked up with a disquieting frown. "Hey, I'm sorry, I--," He spun around and literally had to stop himself from gasping. "Holy sh--Hi, I'm Faith." 

Sitting beside him was a black-haired, sparkling green-eyed hottie in dark jeans and a leather jacket. 

Where had _he_ come from? Faith wondered, a little stunned by the man's intense good looks. 

As if he'd read Faith's mind, the guy stuck out his hand. 

"Hi, Faith," he said, smiling handsomely. "I'm Alex." 

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Chad Moore 


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